


only one thing left to say

by everythingFangirl



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Lunch Club, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But also, Character Study, Dream Smp, Exile, Friends to Enemies, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I am Back with 4k words of meandering character analysis, Isolation, Post-War, Redemption, References to SMPEarth, Self-Hatred, Self-Reflection, Villain Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), tommy and techno don't appear but they are discussed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingFangirl/pseuds/everythingFangirl
Summary: And you say there's other fish in the seaMaybe for you but not for my undying conscienceYou think it's obnoxiousSo I think now it's time for goodbyeThe war is finally won. And the villain must face consequences for his actions.(Who gets to say whether you deserve a happy ending?)
Relationships: Jschlatt & Travis | Traves, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s), not shipping and never will be
Comments: 66
Kudos: 318
Collections: Dream SMP Connected Storylines





	1. i hope you're fine

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before the events of November 16th, but as of now it takes place in an AU where the Manberg/Pogtopia war was resolved more peacefully, without the explosion, Techno’s betrayal, or Schlatt and Wilbur’s deaths.
> 
> Title and description quotes are from the song Goodbye by The Altogether (NOT meant to be romantic).
> 
> For maximum pain read this first: [and in our separate worlds, we sleep alone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402466) by WreakingHavok
> 
> (Edit March 1st 2020: no more Noah Hugbox, society has progressed past the need for Noah Hugbox)

A fresh breeze blows across Schlatt's face, ruffling his hair, as they land. Ironic, isn't it? A breeze like that should be a promise of freedom. 

The portal is still open behind them, but Dream's standing guard, axe brandished. Schlatt doesn't even think for a second he could get past him anymore. There's nothing left for him to do. No way out. End of the line.

He takes a step forward across the grass, the figure beside him mirroring his movement. It's not much, really. They're at the edge of an ocean, a few meagre buildings scattered across the shore. There's a forest to their backs, and a bridge stretching out across the water, disappearing into the distance. 

"Is this it, then?" He asks, looking back. 

The sword Wilbur's pointing towards his throat is answer enough. 

"Ah."

Wilbur's not smiling, but there's a lightness to his features, a sort of tranquility Schlatt hasn't seen in him for months. Years. Even now, something in the fact that it was _his_ fault hurts. "You should be fine here. There's plenty of supplies just in Newfoundland for you to survive, but you don't have to stay here if you don't want to. Take your pick. All of the world is available for you." Wilbur sweeps his free hand in a broad motion towards the horizon, as if to encompass everything around them, then chuckles. "Hell, you could even be an emperor, if you wanted to. I hear there's a whole castle in Antarctica. Nobody's stopping you from taking it."

"What's the point of ruling an abandoned empire?" Schlatt grumbles. But it won't matter, anyway. 

He supposes it's a mercy, after everything he did. Exile to an empty, long-deserted server is more than he could have hoped for. More than he deserves, a part of him says. Another time he'd tell that part of him to be quiet, but what does it matter now, anyway? There's nothing left to do.

"I invited you here once, remember?" Wilbur breaks the silence again, almost hesitantly. Their eyes meet, just for a moment. Wilbur's expression is unreadable.

Schlatt looks away. "I do."

"...You think things would have been different, if you'd been here?"

"I don't know." No, that's not true. He knew how this was going to end. He's known, ever since the diamonds, and the singing, and the water and the lava and the crumbling worlds, exactly how this was going to end. "I doubt it."

They stand there, for another moment, the wind whispering across the ocean the only sound. 

There's nothing left to say. There's everything left to say, and Schlatt's already wasted every chance to say it. It's too late for redemption, too late for forgiveness. Too late. 

Wilbur's the first to move. He turns away, takes a step towards Dream. 

Looks back, just once. 

"Goodbye, Schlatt."

He doesn't respond. 

He doesn't look back as Wilbur's footsteps recede, as the telltale hum of the portal spikes, once, and then falls silent. 

They're gone. 

He's alone. 

"Goodbye," Schlatt whispers to the wind. 

~

He only stays in Newfoundland for a night. He sits down, right there on the shore, watching the ocean, not getting up to eat, not moving at all. The sun sets behind him, and he doesn't turn to look. He just sits, listening to the crashing of the waves, feeling the hollowness in his chest grow and grow and grow. 

In the morning, the sun rises. He sees all of it, from the first streaks of pink in the sky to the brilliant blaze of yellow and white that sets the whole ocean glittering. 

It means nothing. 

In the morning, he starts to walk. 

The bridge is long. Longer than he expected. There's a railroad, but no minecarts in sight, so he just walks, leaving Wilbur's old home and his own memories behind. The ocean crashes below him, sea spray spattering his face, but he doesn't stop. Even when his feet step on earth again, he doesn't stop. 

He sleeps where he can, eats what he finds. He doesn't settle. What's the point? He'll have plenty of time to sit around and do nothing in the silence. The rest of his life, in fact. 

So, he walks. Along walls and borders and battlements, across plains and forests and deserts, railways and bridges. Flags sun-bleached and toppled by the wind, buildings with roofs caved in or wooden walls damaged by water and mold. There's a map in his pocket, left there by Quackity with an apologetic wince he didn't mean. Schlatt doesn't check it. No hostile mobs attack him. There's been nobody here for an eternity. They have no reason to spawn anymore. 

He loses track of where he is, eventually. He finds another bridge and walks across it, only to be met by an endless field of nothing but ice. The moment he sees the spires of a castle above the horizon line, he stops. This is no place for him. Too cold, too empty, too isolated, even for him, and the wind howling across the snowdrifts echoes in his chest where his heart used to be, he could never stay here, never, never, not after the endless battles of Manberg and the warmth of his own personal hell and the chaos of home -

Home. 

He hasn't been home for a long time. 

He walks back. 

He walks, alone, not hearing the chirping of the birds in the trees or feeling the nose of the wolf that nuzzles against his hand or seeing the bright glowing red eyes of the spiders that stalk after him. 

What does it matter? What does it matter if he's lost, or he starves, or he stumbles across the edge of a cliff and into the raging waters? He's failed. He's failed at being a king, he's failed at being a villain, he's failed at being a friend. This is the price he has to pay. It doesn't matter anymore. Sooner or later, he'll be forgotten by all of them. He's lost. For good, this time.

He walks across another bridge, and only realizes what he's done when Newfoundland stares back at him. Wilbur Soot is scrawled across its every surface, in the buildings and the chopped down trees and the very bridge he's been walking on for hours. 

It hurts too much. 

He walks through it, and keeps walking, and walking and walking and walking until his feet sink into the sand of the opposite coastline. He follows the ocean for a while, stumbling across sand dunes and through the shallows, leaving his shoes behind somewhere on the beach. The tide will take them away, soon, and they'll be gone too. 

Eventually, there's a single building, right there on the shore. Maybe there'll be a bed he could sleep in, or resources, he thinks, detached from his own thoughts as he has been for the past - days? Weeks? Months? He doesn't know. 

What more can he do? The night is fast approaching. He walks forward.

Schlatt's almost to the door when he realizes there's torchlight flickering inside. 

This place isn't empty.

But - this world should be deserted, right? This server should be empty, just for him to wander endlessly. Is this some last mean trick? A leftover of the life that once thrived here, or a trap? Meant to give him one last spark of hope, and then tear it away in the worst way possible?

He takes a step back, looks once more at the walls in front of him. It certainly doesn't look abandoned. Old and worn, maybe, but there's no signs of decay or collapse. Could have just been well-preserved by time, he yells at himself, don't get your hopes up, don't even think -

There's a sign above the door. A haphazardly scribbled string of almost nonsensical letters, worn and scuffed almost as if it had been torn down from somewhere else and put up again. 

Almost as if...

Almost...

Oh.

_"coop n trave adboe"_

Almost as if he'd seen it before. 

Schlatt's frozen.

He almost doesn't realize he's raising his fist to knock. 

Not until the door swings open in his face. 

They're shorter than him. Wearing a black hoodie. Dog ears poke out of curly hair. 

"...Schlatt?"

For once in his life, Jschlatt is completely and utterly lost for words. 

And arms crash around him in an embrace he thought he'd lost for good. Something in that, be it the warmth or the physical contact or the sheer force with which Travis bowls into him, snaps him out of his frozen state, and Schlatt's legs give out under him as he all but collapses into the other boy's arms. They sink to the ground, neither of them letting go, and maybe he's laughing or crying but either way they must be causing some sort of commotion, because pounding footsteps sound from inside and another figure appears in the doorway.

"Holy shit," Cooper's voice sounds. Then again, "Holy shit." 

Schlatt's still clutching the back of Travis' hoodie too tightly to care. Because - because -

What can he even say? Because he thought he'd never see them again? Because he thought that if he did, they'd hate him? Because he thought he'd be on his own, here, forever, and the last person he'd ever see would only remember him as an enemy? 

Or, no. Maybe it's simpler than that. 

Maybe he just missed them. 

Travis is laughing, face buried in his shirt, and Schlatt's laughing too, or crying, or both, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto Travis' shoulder. He holds on, tighter, just in case this is one last little joke and his friend will fade into nothing in his arms -

But he doesn't. He's here, they're here, he's here, and, and -

And there's a warmth blossoming in his chest again -

And Schlatt feels _alive._

They separate, what feels like far too soon, and Schlatt meets tear-speckled brown eyes and grins. A hand appears in his view to help him up, and he grabs it, and Cooper yanks him up and right into another hug.

"Holy shit," he chuckles in disbelief next to his ear, and Schlatt laughs again, because what else is there to say? 

Schlatt pulls away sooner than he'd like, and Cooper stops for a moment, taking him in. He looks just like he did all that time ago - wait, no.

"Finally got a haircut, I see," Schlatt quips, his voice scraping and hoarse and wavering, but Cooper only laughs in that way he remembers so well and thumps him on the back. 

"Good to see you too."

Cooper and Travis drag him inside, around a table, talking and laughing in familiar voices, and they're they're, and he's here, and it's enough. It's enough. He eats, properly, for the first time he can remember, he laughs at their jokes, lets himself drown in their words because this is more than anything he could have ever wanted, more than anything he could have hoped for. Because they're _here_.

"I wonder if Wilbur knew about this, the bastard," he murmurs, almost to himself.

"Wilbur?" Cooper meets his gaze, questioningly. "Yeah, he knows we're here. He's checked up on us a couple of times, to make sure we're okay, I guess. Never said you'd be coming, though."

Oh. 

_Oh._

He knew. 

The bastard knew. 

Schlatt starts to laugh. 

Cooper's looking at him a little like he's gone crazy, but that doesn't matter. Because Wilbur knew. 

He was never going to leave him here alone after all. 

"Well played, Soot," he forces out between fits of laughter, tears of mirth. Or maybe they're of relief. Of realization, of regret, of -

It doesn't matter. He wasn't going to leave him alone.

"Well played."

_Thank you, old friend._

_Goodbye._


	2. i'd rather give up and be happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I will come home in time  
>  And we'll grow old and break apart  
> It's what I told you from the start  
> We've always played the part_
> 
> Redemption doesn't come easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title and description are from the song Home by Madeon.

Schlatt has a good night’s sleep for the first time in months.

When he wakes up, the sun is already shining, a beam of light peeking through the curtains and straight into his eyes. He doesn’t mind, because the bed is comfortable, and he’s finally out of that goddamn suit, and -

He’s safe. He’s not alone. 

He grins at that thought, and goes to breakfast. 

Only Travis is downstairs in the kitchen, but he smiles up at him when he hears him descend. When Schlatt takes a seat, Travis pushes a plate of pancakes towards him. Some of them are burnt, and the taste may be a little off, but it’s still the best thing Schlatt’s eaten in a long, long while.

Before stuffing his face with yet another bite, Schlatt takes a moment to ask, “So, what is it that you... do here, exactly?” 

“Oh, lots of things! We gotta hunt for food, we gotta mine to make stuff, we gotta fight monsters, but…" Travis pauses for a second to think. "We also build stuff, sometimes we go exploring to see what we can find in old bases or look for new things we haven’t discovered yet… most of the time, we just chill, though. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to do that.” 

“Yeah, I get that.” Travis laughs at that, and Schlatt finds himself joining in too. It really has been a while since he’s gotten the chance to just… take a moment to breathe. “Just chill, huh?” he repeats. “That does sound nice.”

Travis beams at him, and Schlatt smiles too, and it’s the most content he’s felt since -

Since -

Well. He tries to avoid thinking about that.

But he’s not going to let thoughts of the past put a damper on this day. Not in a million years. Not now that he’s finally found something good again.

~

In the afternoon, Schlatt finds himself sitting on the beach, overlooking the ocean spread out before him, eyes glued to the hypnotic movement of the waves. Cooper’s swimming, and Schlatt watches him dip in and out of the water for a while. Sometimes he stays under for long enough that Schlatt begins to feel a twinge of worry, memories of waves lapping against his ankles and climbing higher and the burning in his lungs and in his muscles but - 

But of course there’s nothing to worry about. Not for Cooper, at least. 

Eventually, he emerges from the ocean, sunlight glittering on the droplets of water on his gills, and sits down on the sand next to Schlatt. It’s a peaceful, companionable kind of silence. No words need to be said.

But eventually, Schlatt’s curiosity gets the better of him. “Who else can come here? You said Wilbur’s visited you, but are the others?”

Cooper hums for a moment, in thought. “Pretty much everyone who was here back when the server was still running can visit, if they still have the IP. Joko and Sam come by sometimes. Most people don’t bother, though. There’s not much reason to come back to a place like this.”

“Then why did you?”

Cooper lays back in the sand with a sigh, resting his head on his arms. “I guess we needed a break. Or, a place to chill, at least. We haven’t had anything like that since…” he trails off, the words he isn’t saying hanging heavily in the air. “But Travis and I already had land claimed here, and we knew nobody would bother us, so… here we are, I guess.”

“I see.” After a moment, Schlatt joins Cooper on the sand, squinting up at the sun. It’s warm, but the heat isn’t overbearing, just… comforting, in a way. 

That first night, on the beach of Newfoundland, the crashing of the waves had been too distant, too hollow, too much for his aching heart and too loud for the silence ringing in his head. But, here, it’s peaceful. Familiar. He could get lost in it, the waves and the sun and the soft sand beneath him. He could lie here for a thousand years and not mind. 

But that’s not because of the crashing of the water, or the warmth caressing his face. 

It’s because Cooper’s next to him, because Travis is in the house on the coastline right behind him. 

It’s because, at the end of the day, he knows he’ll have a home to go back to. 

He’ll have people who actually want him there. 

...People he left behind at the first chance of power. 

The thought hits him like a sword thrust through his heart.

_He doesn’t deserve this._

He doesn’t deserve the rest, he doesn’t deserve to be welcomed in with open arms, he doesn’t deserve a happy ending. But that’s exactly what he’s gotten, that’s exactly what Wilbur’s decided to give him.

He’s done nothing to deserve it. Absolutely nothing.

And suddenly, the heat is too much, the waves are too much, it’s too much -

Schlatt stands up. 

~

The sun's setting when he makes up his mind. He finds himself back in the entry hall, and exhales as he pushes the door open, the cool night air flooding in. With every new step he takes across the grass and away from the house, it feels like another tonne drops down onto the weight on his shoulders, but - 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

Cooper is standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the light spilling into the darkening evening. Schlatt’s eyes fly back up to the sign above him, just once. 

“Nowhere, I think. I just…” For a moment, he wavers, but then settles for a half-truth. “When I was alone, before, I didn’t really get a chance to look around.” When Cooper raises an eyebrow, he hurriedly elaborates, “I mean, I had plenty of time, but… I didn’t really take any of it in, you know? I didn’t bother to actually look. I’m just wondering what else is out there.”

“And are you planning to walk all the way?”

“Well…”

He doesn’t have an answer to that. Cooper chuckles at that. 

“If you’re going to go exploring, you might as well use the proper equipment.” He begins to walk away from the house, beckoning Schlatt over, who follows him in lieu of anything better to do. They get a good distance away from the coastline before Cooper stops -

And then there’s a plane in front of them. There’s no other explanation. One moment it’s not there, and the next it is. A small, two-seat airplane, but an airplane nonetheless.

“What the fuck is this?” 

Cooper's still smiling at him. “It’s a transport system they established back when the server was still populated. Most of the planes they built became defunct after their owners left, but Travis and I managed to snag a few.” He steps aside, shrugging casually towards the seat. “It’s all yours.” 

Schlatt doesn’t know how to fly a plane, of course, but something in the fact that Cooper doesn’t mention it makes him think it won’t matter. He clambers into the seat, only a little awkwardly, and rests his hands on the controls. Nothing too complicated about it. He should be able to figure it out.

“...Will you come back?”

For Cooper, it’s uncharacteristically hesitant. Uncharacteristically gentle. 

Schlatt breathes in, musters a cheery tone. “Of course.”

Even if he hasn't yet decided if it's true.

Cooper smiles, the plane’s engine roars, and that’s that. 

And so he flies. 

~

The place he finds himself in, eventually, is forested and quiet, although that doesn’t say much. He lands the plane in a clearing amongst the trees, sighs as his feet land in the grass. For some time, it’s silent, and he stands by himself, taking it in. Somewhere beyond the treeline, the sun is setting.

After a few minutes, life begins to emerge again, recovered from the shock of his arrival. A bird whistles in the canopy, then another, and another, until there’s a whole chorus chattering in the leaves. He sees movement among the tree trunks, too, what must be foxes or rabbits rustling in the underbrush. 

This place is teeming with life. Untouched for so long, it’s recovered, and it’s thriving. Schlatt’s spent so long in the heart of Dream’s lands, torn apart and put back together enough times to be unrecognizable, that he’s almost forgotten what it’s like. 

And before that -

And before -

And before -

...He needs to figure out where he is. 

Schlatt reaches into his pocket, fingers brushing against the corner of a folded piece of paper. Quackity’s map. The guy had gotten off easy, after everything - which was fair, Schlatt supposes, after he shot the evil dictator of the land point-blank. He still remembers the way Alex had looked, the last time he’d seen him. Almost pitying, but not quite, the softness in his eyes backed by a core of unwavering steel. He hadn’t forgiven him. But he hadn’t quite despised him, either, still. The map is proof enough of that. 

Schlatt withdraws it for the first time. The world unfolds underneath his hands, and his eyes scan across oceans and borders and names until he finds the white marker indicating his location. He’s near the western coast of the largest landmass, evidently. The area’s name means nothing to him. 

What does give him pause, however, is the name printed below it. 

_German Empire  
Owner: Its_Jawsh_

Josh. 

It’s been a long time. 

He knows exactly how long. 

Since that last day, since those cheery waves of goodbye, since that portal was shut for the final time -

He’s thinking about home again. He’s been thinking about home a lot, recently -

He has to stop calling it that. 

Schlatt almost crumples the map into a ball, before resisting the biting temptation and folding it back up roughly, shoving it back into his pocket. He starts to walk through the trees, anywhere, anything to get his mind off things, but the birds are chirping and the trees are verdant and the air is fresh and he’s still thinking about home and Manberg and tides and hurricanes and how every world he touches crumbles to nothing because of him, and he doesn’t even realize when he begins running -

And, in the corner of his eye -

Someone running alongside him, eyes bright as lightning and movements nimble as the wind and laughter wild as a storm, flitting through the trees -

He crashes to a stop. 

There’s nothing. No-one. As the night descends around him, he’s alone. 

But…

But for a moment, he could have sworn he saw Charlie.

He’s already gotten forgiveness, once. He’s already destroyed everything, once, and Charlie had been there to witness every second of it, and still he stood by him when the dust settled and still he chose to offer his hand and Schlatt had taken it -

Had he deserved it back then? Had he done enough to redeem himself? 

Charlie saved his life before Schlatt ever saved his, but… but he _had_ , eventually. He’d helped him and his friends time and time again, stuck by them just as they stuck by him… by the time they’d gotten out of that hellscape of a world for good, he could have almost, but not quite, called himself a good person again. 

Charlie had chosen to stand beside him. But not because he’d known him, or pitied him. It’s because, back then, Schlatt had at least _tried._

But not this time. 

This time, he’d played the villain right to the end. 

He leans back against a tree with a huff, still trying to catch his breath from his impromptu panicked rush. How does he keep falling into the same patterns, time and time again? Why does he do it? Why does he never _fucking_ learn?

The sunlight is almost completely gone, by now. The forest around him sinks into the night.

And, in the darkness, flitting between the trees…

Tiny, flickering spots of light, as if the stars themselves had descended to the earth. Thousands of them.

Fireflies. 

Without meaning to, Schlatt smiles. Memories resurface of a time he hasn’t truly thought about for a long while, that he hasn’t had a chance to. A small world, and a campfire for four (not five, yet, but it would be soon). A night ringing with laughter and songs, his hands warmed by the crackling flames, the darkness filled with those fleeting, impossible lights. The first true moment of peace he’d felt since h- 

Since the doors closed on the world they’d first found each other through. It was a grief they all shared, but… in that moment, they’d all been happy.

...So why did he throw that all away? Why did he go looking for that first chance of power he could get his hands on, the moment a doorway opened to Dream’s thriving world?

Why did he ever leave?

Because he’s selfish. He’s always been. He’s selfish, and power-hungry, and cruel, and someone who doesn’t know how to quit while he’s ahead.

He should know this, by now. He should have known to stop pretending to be worth something, by now.

Schlatt doesn’t sleep that night. He sinks down into a seat, right there, back resting against the tree, and watches the fireflies dance until they’re all gone.

~

When the gray light of the dawn creeps out from behind the treeline, he stands again. His flight is aimless, taking him across more forests and more deserts and more mountains, until his eyes once again find the wide expanse of an ocean. Spotting a cluster of buildings on the shore and seeing nothing better to do, he lands once again, digs the map out of his pocket. He’s flown across the entire continent, evidently, and found himself in -

Ah. 

_Business Bay  
Owner: TommyInnit_

A chuckle tears out of his throat. TommyInnit built this place. 

It’s funny to imagine the man he knows, loud and boistrous and annoyingly good-hearted, scrambling around these lands as nothing but a child, trailing behind Wilbur or Philza or Technoblade without knowing that one day he’ll surpass them all. 

It’s funny. Schlatt hadn’t even realized when he’d stopped thinking of him as that child in the first place.

With the clarity of distance and time, he can admit that what the kid’s been doing is, in a way, impressive. He can admit that, in a way, he can see himself in him, too. 

He can admit that, in every way, TommyInnit is a better person than him. 

Maybe they started from the same roots, nothing but criminals riding off the coattails of others, taking that opportunity to grow and find success, but -

But Tommy hadn’t let that power get to his head. He could have seized L’Manberg at any moment, if he really wanted to, he could have had everything he claimed to strive for, and yet he stuck by Wilbur all the while… Trying to save people from Schlatt’s own rule, and then trying to save people from Wilbur himself when it all got too much for him, when he claimed the role of the villain for himself. 

And through it all, Tommy never stopped being a good person. He’d stuck by his friends.

The night of the festival… Schlatt remembers it all too well. And he remembers Tommy screaming Tubbo’s name. Tommy screaming Tubbo’s name, after Schlatt had ordered his execution. 

Tommy had earned his happy ending. Wilbur, too, certainly, after everything they’d suffered through. 

Schlatt hadn’t. Schlatt had been the reason they’d been suffering. 

...So why did Wilbur want this for him? 

Out of pity? Generosity for old times’ sake? 

Or hope that he could change?

Schlatt laughs, bitterly. Change. He’s had plenty of opportunities to change, and he’s thrown them all away with both hands.

And laughter echoes, again, but it’s not his, it’s loud and sonorous and rings of power and deals and business of a different kind and endless bits and chaos and the comfort of family -

Schlatt spins around, eyes wide -

There’s no-one. The echoes fade to nothing. 

Another shadow of his past, come back to haunt him.

...He could have been someone like Ted.

Powerful, sure. Destructive, sure. But, by the end, he’d still been a good friend, he was still loyal and he was still kind, never truly malicious, never truly cruel, _never brought kids into his fucking twisted schemes -_

He _chose_ to do this. No matter what he tells himself, Schlatt _chose_ to do this. He chose to be the villain, he chose to be cruel, he chose to laugh in Wilbur’s and Tommy’s faces as he ripped everything away from them -

And for what?

For what?

Because he enjoys it? Because he enjoys the chaos, he enjoys the pain?

Does he, really? Or does he just like the feeling of power?

Does he need it? Why does he keep going back?

He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know _he doesn’t know he doesn’t know -_

If given another chance, would he do better? Does he deserve another chance at all? 

A thousand questions spin around his mind, and he really, truly, can’t answer them.

~

He finds his way to Antarctica. 

There’s something about it, that field of endless ice, that had scared him before, that he wouldn’t want to stay in any longer than he had to, but - maybe he should face it. Maybe he needs to see.

The freezing winds buffet him, and he only draws his coat tighter around himself, trudging on. The spires of a castle emerge across the horizon, and for a moment something tightens around his heart, but he doesn’t stop.

Technoblade’s realm. Technoblade, an emperor in this world, claiming to be an anarchist in another, and yet... He’d done exactly what Wilbur asked of him, at first, and then followed Schlatt’s orders, too, despite everything.

But, in the end, Technoblade had stood by his family.

He’d held his blade to Schlatt’s throat along with everyone else, in the end, when his plans finally and irrefutably collapsed around him. Techno had stood right by his family as Schlatt was sentenced, as he was finally cast out of that world for good. 

...Techno had been a good friend, once. Yet another thing Schlatt threw away.

The double doors at the castle’s entrance are heavy, but still swing open at his push. He takes a step across the threshold, and for a moment, simply takes it all in. The high, arching ceiling, the dark wooden floors, the cold still seeping through the walls and permeating the air.

And at the back of the hall, a throne. 

Magnificent, ornate, towering and golden and fit for an emperor, someone brave enough to seize its power and strong enough to use it -

And when he blinks, there’s a figure seated atop it, not power but responsibility weighing down his shoulders, not cruelty but care guiding his hand, radiating warmth even in this endlessly empty and cold wasteland and his eyes glittering with gold -

For a moment, Schlatt feels like he’s home. 

Then the wind slams the doors shut behind him. He twists around, just for a moment, and when he looks back -

He’s alone.

It was him sitting on that throne. 

That’s all this search for power is going to give him, isn’t it? He could never be someone who takes the power he desires and uses it for good - he’ll just be alone, eternally followed by the echoes of his mistakes and everything he regrets, everything he can’t ever change, and the only thing he can ever do is to simply move on and find another world to tear apart.

Why? Why can’t he ever settle? Why can’t he ever change, why does he keep making the same stupid mistakes over and over again, why why _why -_

Because it’s so _easy._

It’s so easy to ask for forgiveness, to take it when it’s offered to you without looking back and to cast it away when it suits you, to not have to face any consequences as you dive into another power fantasy. It’s always been so goddamn easy, to leave, to do the thing that brings you momentary exhilaration even as you know that it’s not right, that someone else will be taking the fall.

So what’s stopping him from doing it again? How can he know that he won’t just grow into a monster again, like he always has, like he always will? 

...because he’s happy. 

He can be happy.

He can be happy here, for once.

For good.

Because he’s so much happier like this. He always has been. Not ruling a nation or tearing apart a world or ripping apart someone else’s narrative and inserting himself in. He’s happy just _being_ , with someone who cares about him, someone who somehow doesn’t despise him to his very bones after everything he’s done. 

He wants to be happy. 

Maybe he doesn’t deserve it. Maybe not yet. 

But he’ll work for it. He’ll take the time and he’ll work for it. He’ll prove to himself that he _can_ be better. In that moment, he swears, on his life and everything he’s ever dared to love, that he won’t make the same mistakes again. He’ll stay, and he’ll work to become someone deserving of the last chance he’s been given.

And he’d rather do it with his friends by his side. 

So Schlatt leaves the Antarctic behind. 

And he goes home. 

~

San Diego unfolds below him, the ocean giving way to plains and fields and forests. He flies along the coastline, breathing in the wind and relishing the feeling of flight, truly taking in the sights around him for the first time. It is beautiful here, he can’t deny. He could get used to this. 

A speck on the horizon grows into a familiar house, and Schlatt finds himself grinning. He’ll be back, soon, and he can eat dinner with the boys, he can sleep in a proper bed, he can relax. He can live. 

Indiscernible figures on the ground solidify into human shapes, and Schlatt waves, even knowing they likely can’t see it. They can see he’s flying back, though, and he can hear their voices ringing out to greet him, and he grins as he sees them waving to him from the ground -

Four of them.

Not two. Four.

Four figures wave to him. 

Travis and Cooper, welcoming him back with open arms. 

Charlie, his laughter bright and triumphant.

And Ted, cheering with what sounds like genuine joy. Like nothing's changed at all.

Maybe, in a way, nothing has. 

Because they’re here. They’re here, and they’re together, again after all this time -

This is home. _This_ is home. This is all he needs.

Maybe he doesn’t deserve it, not yet, but he swears that, one day, he will. 

It won’t be forever, Schlatt knows. Something always happens to break them apart again, somehow, and they’ll be cast into separate worlds again and be forced to face them alone -

But. But for now, he’ll stay with them. For now, as he lands to them calling his name, and sees Charlie run ahead to greet him with grins just as wide as the last time he’d seen him, hears Ted's achingly familiar laugh again... he’ll try to be better, and he’ll be with them, and he’ll make the most of the time that’s been given to him. He sinks into Charlie’s hug, and he grins back at Ted without guilt, and he finally sees his best fucking friends in any world he’s ever been to, and nothing else matters.

Because, finally, _finally,_ he’s home.

And he’s okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Was this whole thing just an excuse for me to shove the adboe into a Dream SMP-related fic? Perhaps. Perhaps.


End file.
